


Chicago

by JaneDuJour



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDuJour/pseuds/JaneDuJour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a city not their home, Harvey and Mike were always the two most familiar things to one another. That familiarity sometimes presented the illusion of closeness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicago

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to know if I was capable of writing a fic without sex or angst. It wasn't easy.
> 
> Lots of betas for such a little fic! Thank you naiasf, sal-si-puedes, and cellardoor28 for volunteering to help me out! :D You are absolved of your duty to leave comments here becuase you've already overwhelmed me with positive feedback.

“Come on, old man, the mini bar’s not gonna raid itself.”

 

Harvey hesitated at the entrance of Mike’s hotel room, letting the heavy door fall against his palm. He tried not to let the smile, lingering from their light, teasing banter in the elevator, fade too quickly as he watched Mike shrug off his suit jacket and toss it onto the bed. The impulse to reach out and lay a hand on his arm and flatten out a few of the wrinkles around his shoulder didn’t entirely take him by surprise, but it was too strong to be as simple as it seemed. It was the wrong moment. In the office, in certain circumstances, he could pass it off as innocent, but he couldn’t get away with touching the younger man here and now. He kept his feet planted on the outdated carpet in the hallway and his palm on the door.

 

Harvey was still so high on their win after making a surprise visit to Chicago and catching their opponent off-guard before intellectually batting him back and forth like a tennis ball between him and Mike until the man was too dizzy not to agree to a barely-legal settlement. He knew how this one was going to turn out – there had never been any question about their small victory on the horizon – but sometimes he forgot how much fun his younger counterpart made the job when they were working on something together that didn’t carry any personal baggage, which almost never happened these days. Normally he would never feel the desire to celebrate when the result was both obvious and simple, but because Mike was there with him it made the simple task just... exciting. Different. And that was why he hired him in the first place, wasn't it? He couldn’t even remember now what Mike had said to him in the elevator on their way up that made him laugh but it was the first time in a long time he’d laughed genuinely.

 

Maybe he was enjoying their time together a little too much. He wanted to blame it on the modest amount of liquor he’d consumed at the so-called jazz bar he’d shoved Mike into on their way back to the hotel. Harvey hated to admit it but with his charcoal suit and sleek black briefcase, he’d felt a little out of place in the joint, which probably couldn’t have been more casual if it was legion basement. But Mike was next to him so that helped. They hadn’t stayed long, anyway. The headliner was a budding local with plenty of charm and no talent, squeezing out alarmingly sober Frank Sinatra covers. She didn’t fit in there, either. So much for trying someplace new.

 

Someday he’d take Mike out for a real show. Real music. Did Mike even like jazz though? Had he listened to any of those tapes he’d stolen? Probably not.

 

Next flight back to New York was after midnight. They agreed on the first hotel they saw and opted to return home on Saturday morning.

 

They could have handled this case without the personal appearance, but nobody seemed to question the validity of the trip so he took it, and he took Mike along with him. The selfish truth was that Harvey really liked this town. He loved New York, it was his home, but Chicago was a cool city with lots of strangers and good vibes that he could always comfortably retreat to when he needed a boost. There was something so _real,_ so _American_ about Chicago, and a bit surreal at the same time. Some of the clean, deserted streets at night in the late autumn looked like scenes from an old movie or a book cover that he couldn’t name.

 

Mike loosened his tie and looked up at Harvey when he realized that he hadn’t followed him into the room. “What? What’s wrong?” The amusement in his eyes was quickly drowned out by a soft concern.

 

What was wrong? The fact that Mike was so easy to fall concerned, for starters. It was always at the moment Harvey felt he should probably take a step back that Mike took two steps closer to him. Harvey blinked and parted his lips, taking in some air, wondering what would happen if he just walked over and put his hand on Mike’s shoulder. His mind could wander as far as it wanted to, but when he came back to himself the impulse was still there. Just a friendly touch, nothing more. He’d probably have to justify it with some kind of sage advice, but he couldn’t really think of any. He’d never ached so badly or so suddenly to feel the heat of Mike’s body against his hand before, through the fabric of his shirt, and it had come on so quickly and unexpectedly he wasn’t prepared for it, and it wasn’t going away. They were both tuned in to the same channel tonight and he was feeling particularly close to the guy, but his body didn’t seem to understand the nature of their professional chemistry sometimes. In a city not their home, they were always the two most familiar things to one another and that familiarity sometimes presented the illusion of closeness.

 

“I just remembered...” _how much I love every fucking second I spend with you_ “...that I have a lot of work to do tonight.”

 

What was he thinking, taking his favourite person to his favourite city?

 

Mike nodded after evaluating Harvey’s blatant lie for a few seconds. “Can I help?”

 

Harvey made himself shake his head and look away. “Get some sleep,” he instructed. He could feel Mike’s inquisitive eyes following him closely as he let the door fall shut.

 

Harvey had only walked a few paces down the hall when he turned back at the sound of the door to Mike’s suite open again. He had something in his hand.

 

“Uh... this is yours,” Mike confessed, holding up a piece of white plastic between his fingers.

 

Harvey slipped his hand into his pocket, coming up empty. It was the keycard for his hotel room.

 

“I don’t know if I should ask why you have it, or how you got it.” Harvey stepped up to Mike and took the card away from him, both confused and amused by the guilt on his face.

 

“Fell out of your pocket in the cab. I was gonna mess with you but you’re not...” Mike trailed off with a shrug.

 

Harvey almost laughed. Mike couldn’t just leave it there. “I’m not what?”

 

Mike tensed up and shrugged again. “I don’t know. You’re just... _not_. Don’t you have work to do?”

 

Well, fuck. This was going to annoy the hell out of him. Mike meant something by what he said and Harvey didn’t know what it was. Not in the mood for games? Yeah, actually, he was in the mood to dick around with Mike and waste some time. That was the problem.

 

Harvey just nodded. “Don’t take my stuff again,” he warned casually. He felt Mike’s eyes on his back as he walked a few paces down the hall to his door, opened it, and went into his suite without looking back. He heard Mike’s door shut a few seconds later.

 

Harvey dropped his briefcase on the bed and began stripping down, running a few scenarios over in his head. What would Mike do if Harvey touched him for no reason? Would he ask why? Harvey would’t have an answer for him. A touch was innocent but the impulse _hurt_. Maybe Mike wouldn’t care at all. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. Maybe he’d get totally weirded out and tell Harvey to back off, which would probably be the appropriate response.

 

Maybe he should just ask him. Then he’d know.

 

It wasn’t sexual. And yeah, of course, Mike was fuckable as hell and Harvey wanted that, too – _fuck,_ did he want it – but the sexual fantasies weren’t a problem for him because they were so far removed from reality that managing those thoughts was easy. It was the persistent itch for little things that was starting to drive him insane, just to take one step closer every time he knew he should be turning in the other direction. To let a casual touch linger one second longer. To make one too many dating jokes in a day. To pay him a compliment that wasn’t laced with sarcasm. Maybe a part of him just needed to see where Mike hit the breaks. Maybe he should, but maybe he wouldn’t. And what then?

 

When Harvey had himself naked he treated himself to a long, hot shower. He tried to jerk off, always feeling perversely obligated to christen a fresh hotel shower, his hand slick with cheap complimentary bath oil, but it wasn’t happening.

 

Harvey dried off, changed into a t-shirt and boxers, brushed his teeth with the stupid little complimentary toothbrush, and ended up on his bed in front of the TV. There was always some work to do, but he wasn’t...

 

In the mood for it. Like Mike said, or didn’t say. Just _not._

 

He watched a few minutes of the local news, a few minutes of The Simpsons, a few minutes of Mrs. Doubtfire... all the staples of hotel TV. He was just about to opt for the pay-per-view titty channels when he landed on something he was actually in the mood to drain his brain with.

 

On instinct, he grabbed his cellphone and texted Mike.

 

_Outbreak CH22._

Being that it was a highly quotable, melodramatic action-packed gem of the 90’s, he assumed Mike was on board. If he wasn’t, would he pretend he knew it to impress Harvey?

 

His phone buzzed.

 

_TV is crap. Volume busted._

Harvey held the phone in his hand for three long minutes, wondering if Mike was being honest with him or if he was looking for an invitation. Or both.

 

Apparently Mike didn’t need an invitation. There was a knock at the door, and Harvey couldn’t pretend not to be home.

 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Harvey got up and paced across the room, making sure he didn’t have a semi in his boxers before he unlocked the door.

 

When he opened it, he saw Mike in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Sock feet. Damp hair. Freshly scrubbed face. He looked so fucking squeezable it made Harvey want to puke.

 

“If I wanted to watch it on mute I’d watch it in my head,” Mike remarked.

 

Harvey needed a reminder sometimes that Mike was a freak with super-human abilities. It had never occurred to him that he could play a film in his head, but had it occurred to him, he wouldn’t have considered the role that volume played in the mind of a person with photographic memory. Interesting.

 

Harvey forced himself to stop musing over how fascinating Mike’s brain was. “Did you call the front desk?”

 

Mike’s face twisted up with disappointment for barely a second before Harvey rolled his eyes and pushed the door open wider.

 

“Fine,” Harvey sighed.

 

He bit his lip at the smell of soap as Mike brushed past him, trying not to think about the younger man being in the shower in the room next door at the same time he was. He let the door fall shut and saw Mike make himself comfortable on the end of the bed in front of the TV, and now Harvey didn’t know where to put himself. But it wasn’t _his_ bed, it was the hotel’s bed. So maybe it would be okay if they sat on it at the same time.

 

“I thought you had work,” Mike said, glancing up from the television only for a moment. It was obvious that he knew Harvey was bullshitting so there really wasn’t any reason for him to comment.

 

Harvey waved towards the TV. “Obviously something more important came up.”

 

He couldn’t just keep standing there, so Harvey sat on the bed, kicked his feet up and propped his back against the headboard, putting a good amount of distance between him and the other person on the bed. As soon as he had settled in, Mike casually scooted back and sat right next to him. Harvey tensed momentarily and reminded himself that they’d sat closer than this in the cab earlier that night. If Mike thought that it was okay to sit around in bed together half-dressed, then maybe it _was_ okay.

 

He wished he had a bowl of popcorn or a beer or something to occupy his hands with.

 

Mike deliberately nudged Harvey’s arm with his elbow to get his attention. Harvey looked over in time to see Mike pull out a fistful of baby rum bottles from the pocket in his hoodie.

 

“I don’t drink that,” Harvey told him simply. Under just about any other circumstances – where they weren’t in a bed, or where he wasn’t in his boxers, or where it was anyone other than Mike – he would drink. His inhibitions were barely intact as it was, and he really needed to hang on to his better judgement.

 

“Oh.” Mike eventually put the bottles down on the side table.

 

“Don’t let me stop you.”

 

Mike just shrugged and watched the movie quietly.

 

“How did you know to bring a change of clothes?” Harvey asked. It occurred to him very suddenly when he realized he should justify looking at Mike for so long. Harvey always knew there was _something_ in that messenger bag, but he didn’t think it was an overnight ensemble.

 

“I’ve never been to Chicago,” Mike said. “I was thinking about staying for the weekend, check things out. Unless you need me?”

 

Harvey had to work really hard to tear his eyes away from Mike’s while that question settled between his ears. “No, you should stay the weekend,” Harvey told him with a nod before turning his attention back to the TV. “It’s a good city, you’ll have fun.” For some reason it bothered Harvey that Mike hadn’t mentioned before that it was his first time in Chicago.

 

“Silly, sentimental son of a bitch,” Mike whispered.

 

Harvey’s face went hot and his hands went cool for a split second, feeling both strangely exposed and offended. Did he say something out loud that he shouldn’t have? Was he that tired? But Harvey quickly realized that Mike was only talking along with the lines of the movie.

 

“Mute, my ass,” Harvey mumbled, more relieved than he wanted to be that Mike hadn’t been talking about him, or to him. Mike might not have a perfect auditory memory, but he’d obviously spent enough time with this movie to memorize it. That didn’t make him a genius. Just a fucking nerd.

 

After a few minutes they both laughed softly at a speech on the TV that wasn’t intended to be funny, and the thing they were doing started to feel normal. The body next to him was so familiar and comfortable in the unfamiliar room. The lull of his quiet, smart-ass running commentary teased a grin onto the corner of Harvey’s mouth – the side that Mike couldn’t see. And eventually the commentary stopped, the movie ended, and Harvey turned his head to see that Mike was asleep next to him, slumped down low on the bed, without having a drop to drink. What an asshole.

 

Harvey didn’t turn the TV off because he had a weak spot for infomercials, but he turned the volume down a few notches and switched off the light next to the bed. One half of his brain pretended to consider whether or not the Slap Chop was of good value, while the other side debated whether or not there would be consequences to allowing Mike to sleep next to him. Or allowing himself to sleep next to Mike.

 

The fact that he had to keep reminding himself that it was perfectly innocent told him that it wasn’t.

 

With his tired eyes fixed on the screen, Harvey tried to tell himself to wake Mike up. To just reach over, put a hand on his shoulder, and give him a gentle shake. That would give him the contact fix he needed, but then Mike would go back to his room. He almost fell asleep weighing the options.

 

The futile inner debate, feeding into a semi-conscious dream, was cut short when Mike rolled onto his side, pressed his face to Harvey’s shoulder and dropped a hand flat on his chest.

 

Suddenly wide awake, Harvey couldn’t breathe. Maybe because he was so terrified that Mike would wake up that he didn’t want the expansion of his lungs to stir him. He was absolutely frozen. He fought to hold his eyes on the screen but eventually they dropped to the body next to him, warm and sated and goddamn perfect. He’d seen Mike sleep before, at work. Always nodding off when he wasn’t supposed to. It was always hard to wake him up. The weight of his hand felt good but Harvey knew that the longer he let Mike rest like that the more embarrassed he’d be when he woke. Harvey lifted his hand, slowly brought it down to Mike’s warm shoulder, and shook him very slowly and gently... almost gently enough that he wouldn’t wake. It was going to be hard to let this one go.

 

“Mike, wake up,” Harvey said softly.

 

“I’m awake.”

 

Neither of them moved a muscle. Harvey knew he’d given himself away when it took him too long to react, and Mike had more than given himself away admitting that he’d made a conscious decision to press his body against Harvey’s and hold himself there. It was arrogant and risky and everything that Harvey liked about him.

 

Mike’s fingers twisted into the fabric of Harvey’s shirt.

 

Harvey moved his thumb against Mike’s shoulder, trying to think. Mike’s signals were pretty clear, though. There wasn’t much left to think about.

 

Every small shift of Mike’s body and every breath sparked a heat in Harvey’s chest. He could feel Mike’s heart begin to race against his arm. Maybe it was chemical, or magnetic. Whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine finding the strength to move away and let the cool, stale air take the place of Mike’s solid body against him.

 

Fuck it. At this point the damage was done.

 

“Okay, come here,” Harvey sighed, pulling Mike into his arms as they settled back further on the bed. “I’m too tired to deal with this the right way, so if it’s okay with you I’m gonna sleep on it.” He'd have to sleep with the television on because turning it off now meant letting go of Mike for a second, and he couldn't do that.

 

“Good,” Mike said, moving his knee between Harvey’s, settling his head on his chest, draping his arm across Harvey’s chest and holding on tight.

 

Harvey instinctively slid his hand down to Mike’s firm upper thigh when he felt it move over him, eliciting a small, low sound from Mike’s throat. The groin pressed against his leg didn’t betray any arousal, but just because these feelings were only happening from the waist up, that didn’t mean that what they were doing wasn’t totally out of bounds. Effortlessly locked together by their arms and legs, breathing deep and steady now, Harvey was comforted by the thought that Mike probably had all the same concerns running through his mind. 

 

Sleep came more easily than he expected. Harvey slipped into it listening to Mike’s even breathing and the heartbeat that resonated throughout both their bodies. He didn’t even know if that steady thud surrounding him from the inside out belonged to him or Mike.

 

= = =

 

Harvey woke to the sound of his hotel room door closing. He was alone in bed, under the blankets that he fell asleep on top of and had no recollection of getting under. He touched the mattress next to where he lay to find it was still warm.

 

At least Mike had made it pretty clear how he was going to handle this. Fine. They could play the never-happened game if that’s what worked for Mike, because Harvey didn’t have any ideas.

 

Glancing at the clock, he knew he still had plenty of time to get to the airport, so Harvey lay in bed, eyes closed, trying to recreate the memory of the night before, trying to figure out where exactly he started to feel so guilty. But the feeling wasn’t guilt so much as concern. Mike had been the one to reach out first. Maybe Harvey hadn’t given him enough in return. Maybe he hadn’t held on tight enough. Maybe that’s why Mike wasn’t there with him when he woke up.

 

There was no getting around it. They were probably going to have to stand face to face and use their words. The safety of silence wasn’t worth the possibility of a misunderstanding. As little as Harvey understood about this, he knew he had feelings and that they were strong. What he wanted to do with that wasn’t really something he was prepared to consider. Not yet.

 

Eventually the heat of Mike’s body faded from the bed and Harvey dragged himself to his feet. He groomed himself as best he could with what the hotel provided, put on the clothes that he forgot to hang up the night before, and began to fantasize about the fresh underwear and socks waiting for him at home as he watched the too-clear coffee stream from the little machine on top of the mini fridge.

 

Just as Harvey picked up the paper cup of shitty coffee, a few taps sounded at the door. It was quieter than Mike’s knock, but Harvey opened the door anyway, just in case it was him.

 

And of course it was Mike, with a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. Black as hell. The good stuff. His knock on the door wasn’t apprehensive, he just had his hands full.

 

“Yeah, you don’t wanna drink that,” Mike said, nodding to the paper cup of warm, off-amber liquid in Harvey’s grasp.

 

“Thank god,” Harvey said, not sure if he was more relieved to see Mike or to see the decent coffee.

 

Mike smiled an apprehensive, tight-lipped smile that made Harvey’s chest ache.

 

Harvey stood aside and pushed the door open wider, making room for Mike to come in, but Mike just stood there, like he actually thought that Harvey would take the coffee and shut the door in his face. After a few seconds he did come in, and Harvey shut the door.

 

“From the restaurant downstairs,” Mike explained, extending a mug. “Could be worse.”

 

Harvey put down his paper cup and took the one that Mike offered him, not bothering to pretend that the touch of their fingers was accidental in the exchange.

 

“Figured you bolted,” Harvey said with his lips to the rim of the mug before taking a sip. If they had to have this awkward morning-after conversation anyway, it almost felt like a waste that they hadn’t fucked. At least, he wanted to feel that way. 

 

Mike just shook his head. “I’m really attracted to you.”

 

Harvey poured more coffee down his throat so he didn’t have to respond right away. At least someone was being blunt about this.

 

Harvey swallowed. “Who isn’t?” He groaned inwardly as his well-practiced ego took over. It wasn’t the right thing to say. He just couldn’t find the words for this one. Mike was different. It somehow mattered that he’d confessed an attraction. “Not so bad yourself,” he finally said, probably stating the obvious, wishing there was something in the room for him to pack, something to _do_ other than stand and talk. All he could do was stand there and act natural, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around the coffee cup, back straight, expression kind and neutral. He wondered what would happen to him if he stopped making a conscious effort to puppet himself.

 

Mike nodded, his breath a little quick, thumb rubbing the edge of his cup thoughtfully. “I took your key because I thought that maybe if you were looking for a reason to...” Mike cracked a nervous grin and scratched the back of his head. It took balls not to hide his nerves. “I don’t know, to spend a little more time with me or something I thought that might give you an excuse? But I can’t always tell what you want. Sometimes I wish you would just say it but maybe you don’t know what you want, either.”

 

Mike was holding his eyes steady, and Harvey knew it was his turn to speak but all he could do was swallow and lick his lips. Why was Mike making this look so easy? Harvey had held him all night. That should have said enough ebout what he wanted. 

 

Eventually Mike’s gaze dropped into his coffee. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that you can stay here with me this weekend if you want. You’re probably a really good tour guide. I figured you wouldn’t offer to show me around but just in case you really wanted to and you were afraid to ask, I thought I might as well save you the embarrassment and just ask you instead.”

 

Oh fuck. He didn’t know that Mike wanted him to make that kind of offer. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now that he heard it, it sounded like the obvious thing to do and probably a lot of fun, but the very opposite of what he expected to happen. Yeah, of course he wanted to spend the weekend with Mike in Chicago. He was pissed off at himself for making Mike ask first.

 

Harvey opened his mouth but Mike put a hand up.

 

“I completely expect you to say no and that’s so, totally okay. Really. I know how stupid this is – you don’t have to tell me – and I know I’m making things awkward for you. I get why you should say no. You really should. And I’ll never bring this up again.”

 

His big, blue eyes were so hopeful and so prepared for rejection. He seemed to be holding his breath. There was no denying that Harvey was in awe of Mike’s openness. It was one quality that Harvey lacked when it seemed to matter most. Harvey was brave in the ways that were not as important.

 

“I was thinking about staying anyway,” Harvey lied, not intending to be so unclear. He had commitments in New York over the weekend but it’s not like the city would burn down if he wasn’t there.

 

“Oh.” Mike nodded brightly, but his bold exterior was starting to wear thin. He was grabbing onto that coffee cup so hard that it looked like he might break it.

 

Harvey took the mug away from Mike and put it down next to his on the side table.

 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Harvey offered. He was getting a little claustrophobic. “And stay somewhere else tonight?”

 

“Yeah,” Mike breathed, tight-throated. “Yeah, that sounds good.” A loud exhale rushed between his pink lips and his shoulders relaxed visibly.

 

The world seemed to tip back into order when Harvey fully realized just how difficult this was for Mike, and with good reason. They both had every reason to hesitate. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, but they couldn’t go on not doing it.

 

“I’m ready to go,” Mike said.

 

Harvey noticed that his overstuffed messenger bag was already in its place on is shoulder. With a nod, Harvey grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door.

 

“So where to?” Mike asked as they stepped out into the hall.

 

“We need breakfast,” Harvey stated practically as the door fell closed behind him.

 

“Then what?”

 

“Then I need a change of clothes.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Are we there yet, are we there yet?” Harvey mocked, hoping he didn’t sound seriously annoyed, because he wasn’t.

 

They arrived at the elevator and Harvey hit the call button.

 

“Do you like jazz?” Harvey asked. It sounded like the worst pick-up line ever, but it was an honest question.

 

“Uh... depends on your definition of jazz,” Mike confessed carefully.

 

“Not over-articulated contemporary female vocal stylings type jazz,” Harvey assured him. “I don’t know what the hell that was last night but I hope we can forget it happened.”

 

Harvey looked over at Mike when he didn’t respond right away and it took a few seconds before he fully heard his words. Mike wouldn’t look back at him, digesting, probably wondering if Harvey’s was expressing his regret over his poor choice of bar music or the fact that they’d spent the night in bed together.

 

Christ. They spent the night in bed together. He couldn’t get over it. He couldn’t get over how perfectly and naturally Mike’s body had fit against his, or how he’d slept more soundly that night than he had in months.

 

“I...” Harvey tripped on his tongue. This was hard. He couldn’t pamper Mike with room service or flowers or fancy restaurants. They were both above it. He knew this man. That should have been a really great place to start but it meant that there was nowhere to hide.

 

Mike finally turned his head to look at him, and all of the answers were right there in his expression. Suddenly this felt insanely easy for all of the same reasons it felt insanely hard. They had so much to lose, but they _had so much_. Just for the briefest moment Mike’s eyes flashed down to Harvey’s mouth and they were both on the same page again. There was no doubt about it. Harvey licked his lips and it wasn’t meant to be an invitation but he was glad that Mike interpreted it that way.

 

Mike’s mouth was smooth and light against Harvey’s. It sent tingles through his lips, the thrill of how someone could feel so new and so familiar all at once. He heard his briefcase drop to the tacky carpet on the floor with a thud as he raised both his hands to Mike’s face and the younger man moaned softly, deepening the kiss, wrapping an arm around Harvey’s back.

 

0 to 60 in 2.2 seconds, better than a Porsche. Harvey was throbbing from head to toe, sucking on Mike’s tongue, feeling the younger man’s jaw flex under his fingertips as he opened wider, moans vibrating on their lips, pants and sighs of need as much as release echoing in the dim, empty hallway. There were fingers digging into his hips, then his ass, pulling him close, hard, and if there was any uncertainty before, there wasn’t now. Harvey was just about to drag Mike back into his room to keep it going but the empty elevator chimed and the doors slid open with a few rough clunks.

 

Their lips parted with a pant. Harvey rest his forehead against Mike’s, their hot breath mingling.

 

“I want to take you everywhere.” Harvey heard the words he hadn’t intended to speak, his voice low and rough in his throat. He wanted to take him to hear some slow, earth shattering blues, hot jazz, buy him some ridiculously expensive drinks, take him to the best hotel in the city, kiss him, strip him, get to know every inch of his body, make him scream, make him laugh, fall asleep with him, take him back to New York. Take him home. Take him to work on Monday. Everywhere.

 

Mike nodded, hearing every single unspoken word. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
